07 May 2024

Oxymoron Enforcement

 Even after half a century as a dedicated cyclist, I still don’t understand what goes on in the minds of traffic and transit planners.

There are the bike lanes to nowhere that seem to begin out of nowhere—not to mention the ones that are ill-placed, -constructed and -maintained.  Oh, and then there are lanes and turns that seem to be designed to put cyclists and pedestrians in the most possible danger.

Sometimes, though, I wonder whether those planners—those who enforce policies or the law—have any idea of what they’re trying to tell us or a working knowledge of the language in which they’re communicating.

In earlier posts I have given examples of signs that seem to contradict the intended message, or are simply confusing, because of poor logic, grammar or syntax—or seemingly-unintended oxymorons. To wit:





Now, perhaps I’m missing something but I don’t understand how something can be “loud” and a “muffler” at the same time.  And even if such a thing could exist, how could it be “enforced,” strictly or otherwise?  Is that sign warning people that if they enter New Rochelle without a “loud muffler,” they could be penalized?  If so, what does the city deem an appropriate punishment for something that, by definition, cannot exist?

For the record, I cycled into New Rochelle without a loud muffler. I wonder whether there will be a peacekeeping force of violent pacifists stationed at the border the next time I enter the city from Eastchester.

05 May 2024

No Soy Una Cyclista Típica

 I may be, ahem, in midlife. So I might be slowing down. But, by virtue of half a century of dedicated cycling—and writing this blog, I can confidently make this claim about myself:




Enjoy Cinco de Mayo!

04 May 2024

Really Old School

 Yesterday, while riding home, I stopped at Addeo’s: one of my “discoveries “ in my new neighborhood.

It’s in the same ZIP code, but some would argue it isn’t really in my neighborhood:  It’s on one side of the Fordham campus—in the “Little Italy” of the Bronx—while I live next to the Botanical Garden.

In any event, I first came across it about two weeks ago. I could tell it was an “old school” bakery even before I took my first bite of their wonderful breads. It not only has the look of an old Italian bakery in New York—like the ones I grew up with-it also bakes only breads, biscuits, rolls and cookies. If you want pastries or cakes, you can go to Egidio’s, which is just up the street. 




(The difference between those two bakeries is like that between a boulangerie and patisserie.)

Anyway, one thing that really reminded me that I was in the kind of bakery that’s almost impossible to find in New York, or the US, these days is when a woman about my age with what sounded like a Neapolitan accent took the loaf of bread I chose and, before I could finish saying, “no bag,” wrapped and presented it to me:




A loaf of bread, wrapped in paper and tied with string. How much more “old school” can you get than that?